I linger a little longer even after I’m finished until I’m finally feeling back to normal. Turning the spray off, I push out and wrap up in a towel. The mirror is fogged, but I can see the pink glow on my cheeks. Whether it’s from last night or the hot shower, I don’t know. My guess is a combination of the two.
Reaching for the second drawer, I grin when I find all my things divided into sections of a cool plastic divider tray. Toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, there are even cotton balls and Q-tips. I grin when I see a special square filled with black ponytail holders. He stocked up just for me.
Something in the back of the drawer catches my eye. I lean down and see several brands, boxes, and packages of tampons and pads. He kept all those from last month? I cover my mouth to muffle a laugh. He’s way too good to me.
I grab my toothbrush and get to work on my teeth. That night after Clifford’s birthday, if I’d only known— My hand freezes. Clifford’s birthday.
January 11th.
Foam drips from the corner of my mouth.
Today is February 16th.
I yank open the drawer and stare at the boxes in the back as if they hold the answers I’m looking for.
Over a month ago.
I should’ve had a period by now.
I drop my toothbrush into the sink and do a quick count on my fingers. No, that can’t be right. I count again. And again. Then one more time to be sure.
Oh my God.
I’m pregnant.
Eighteen
Killian
I’ve cleaned my entire studio apartment, which isn’t saying much since the place is the size of a matchbox.
I stare at the bathroom door, wondering why the shower turned off over thirty minutes ago and she still hasn’t emerged.
I’ve heard women take a long time to get ready. I’m sure that’s all it is.
I study her bag on the floor. She doesn’t have her clothes in there, so what could she possibly be doing?
As much as I want to bang on the door and check on her, I resolve not to scare her away with my incessant badgering. It was bad enough that I couldn’t leave her alone about the eggs. If I’m not smart, I could easily push her away by loving her too much.
I drop back to the bed and scroll through my phone, returning text messages and checking email.
After several minutes, the bathroom door swings open and Axelle comes out. She’s clutching her towel at her chest so tightly her knuckles are strained, and her hair is wet and un-brushed with a few strands around her face already air dry. She stares at me blankly, and it’s then I notice how pale she is. And she’s shivering.
I launch off the bed and cup her face. “Shit, you’re freezing.” I run my hands over her shoulders and down her arms; her skin is like ice beneath my touch. “What the fuck is going on?” I vacillate between covering her with my body to keep her warm and standing back to run my hands over every inch of her, checking for injury. Her teeth chatter as I walk her to the bed. I pull the comforter back, crawl under it, and toss her wet towel aside before pulling her to my chest. She burrows into me, absorbing my warmth, and I tuck the blankets in tight around us.
She’s so cold her skin burns against mine.
“Talk to me, Ax.” She trembles with full body shivers, and I rub her back, trying to get her to calm down. “Breathe, baby.”
She takes long full breaths, and slowly her shivering fades. Her body warms enough that her muscles relax, but only minutely.
“Axelle, I’m not gonna lie. I’m freakin’ out here.” I speak against the top of her head. “What happened?”
She sniffs and her shoulders jump in my arms.
She’s crying.
Fuck!
This is the strongest woman I know. I’ve been to hell with her several times and rarely seen her cry. Whatever happened between the time she went into that bathroom ’til now is big enough to bring her to her emotional knees.
And the selfish part of me is praying to God this has nothing to do with me.
“Shh…it’s okay. Whatever this is, it’ll be okay.”
She sobs and shakes her head. “No…it…won’t.”
“What happened?” I kiss her head and hold her tighter. “Talk to me, baby.”
She calms and hiccups; the moisture from her tears soak my chest and slide down my ribs to the sheet. “I’m afraid to tell you.”
“No, baby. You never have to be afraid to tell me anything. I love you.”
“That’s why I’m afraid. When I tell you, you won’t love me anymore.”
“Impossible. I’ve loved you for four years. Nothing will change that.” I pull back just enough to see her face, and the sight shreds through me. “What is it?”
She tilts her head back, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “I think… I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m—”
“What?” My stomach plummets at what I think might be coming. Please, God…no. “You’re what, Axelle?” The question comes out harsher than I intend.
She coughs and her face twists with emotion. “Pregnant.”
I’m gone. It’s as if the single word drop-kicked my mind from my body. My arms close in around her, and she bursts into sobs once again. I can hear her, feel her body shaking and the heat of her tears, but inside I’m numb.
Because I’ve taken enough sex-ed classes to know that Axelle’s not pregnant with my baby.